Oh fuck. Where to start?! Ironing could never be a "past time" unless you could break down the accepted concepts of the space-time continuum as easily as you could break down the accepted rules of grammatical tense.
Why in the name of all things sacred would you want to be SEEN with an IRON? "I know dear, fuck the Fendi, I want you to bring the iron with you to dinner tonight."
My inbox groans with the accumulated weight of witless, say-nothing, achingly-silly PR guff. Now I want to share it with the world...
All howlers welcome - please send to:
lostinshowbizATgmailDOTcom
2 comments:
Oh fuck. Where to start?! Ironing could never be a "past time" unless you could break down the accepted concepts of the space-time continuum as easily as you could break down the accepted rules of grammatical tense.
Why in the name of all things sacred would you want to be SEEN with an IRON? "I know dear, fuck the Fendi, I want you to bring the iron with you to dinner tonight."
Some people have too much time BLAH...
I hear you Dave...
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